


Strawberries and Sundresses

by fantasticpandasfanfics



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 15:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9078598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasticpandasfanfics/pseuds/fantasticpandasfanfics
Summary: A prompt given to me anonymously on tumblr: Dad76 walking in on a Widowtracer make out session. And I'm a monster so I took that in a totally different direction than that anon had planned, I'm sure.





	

Widowmaker whispered French into Lena’s skin.

“What’s that?” She found it difficult to choke out the words between breaths. Widow chuckled into the small of Lena’s throat. She raised her eyes to meet the younger girl’s and cocked her head to the side.

“Like being devoured by the sun.” she repeated in English.

“Oh you’ll be devoured alright.” A playful spark danced in Lena’s eyes as Widow raised an eyebrow. They were tangled up on the couch of the library enjoying the quiet of an empty base. Most of the others were running drills while Lena was tasked with observing the newest convert. Widow still wasn’t trusted to roam the base alone, not that Tracer was opposed to “observing” the assassin. They chuckled and lazily bumped their smiles together. The door to the library flew open. The two women froze and slowly turned to see a worn, scarred Soldier 76 standing in the doorway. He pulled his mask off and pinched the bridge of his nose, allowing a long sigh to escape beneath his hand.

“Really?” The low gravelly reprimand made Lena smile sheepishly and Widow sit up at Tracer’s knees.

“Relax, Jack, she’s keeping close tabs on me.” Widow replied with a wicked grin on her face, winking at the smaller girl.

“What did you call me?” The room went frigid as Soldier swiftly crossed the room, extending his free arm and an accusatory finger. Widow’s eyes searched the man. “No one here calls me Jack.” He stated more clearly furthering his advance towards the women. Tracer sat up in a defensive position next to Widow. Unwavering, Widow stood to lock eyes with the soldier. Lena hopped up, half inserting herself between the two. She attempted to head off an impending fight, even though she was nearly a head shorter than both the contenders.

“What does it really matter, Morrison?” The British woman prodded. She had been working so hard to incorporate Widow into her family of Overwatch members, she wasn’t about to let a slip of the tongue ruin that.

“No one here calls me Jack. No one.” He passed his glare from woman to woman. “If she remembers anything from before,” he spat the words at Widow, “then she has no excuse for what she’s done.” They stood tense, Lena’s arm being the only barrier between the two. Soldier took a few steps back, refusing to break the stare down, then turned on a heel and marched out the door. Lena let loose the breath she had been holding and Widow continued to stare after the soldier as he slammed the door. Lena plopped back on the couch and watched the assassin.

“Do you actually remember anything?” Lena softly prodded after a couple minutes of silence. Widow crossed her arms and shook her head.

“Fragments. They slip through the cracks you’ve made.” Finally turning to meet the hazel eyes analyzing her. There was something in those freckle framed eyes that she couldn’t pinpoint. The gaze made her stomach turn and she looked away. _Hope._  she thought, _She still holds out hope… Foolish girl…_

“What do you remember?”

“You broke me.” Widow whispered under her breath. Turning to Lena, she elaborated, “Whatever they did, it’s not reversible-”

“I know that. Winston said it would be nearly impossible-”

“But you broke the pretty little mask they made for me. The cracks allow very few things to leak through.” She started rubbing her arm and slowly sat down on the couch next to Tracer, refusing to make eye contact. “It’s why I’ve refused to share a bed with you.” Lena blushed slightly at the implication. “You smell like a memory.” The wind was stolen from Tracer’s lungs. She wanted to press further but found no words cooperating with her. Blinking finally, she struggled with a response.

“What memory?”

“Strawberries. And a sundress.” Lena ran through her memories, memories of idolizing Overwatch as a child, of joining the Royal Air Force to become the hero she wanted to be, of being recruited by the very heroes she worshipped, of being lost in the time stream, of loss, of the recall, nothing she could find resembled strawberries and sundresses. She tilted her head.

“I don’t…”

“It could just be a dream… It hurts to remember…” Widow stood. “I believe it’s time for bed anyway.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll stay here if you need me, love.” This revelation weighed heavy on Tracer, finding herself unable to move from the couch. Widow quickly retreated to Lena’s room, her temporary resting place while the whole of Overwatch learned where her loyalties lied. She crawled reluctantly into the bed that was not hers, and tried to usher off the thoughts that demanded to escape through her cracks.

–

_A young woman with long jet black hair walked into a field of ankle high grass. A soft breeze played with the hem of her cream colored sundress and threatened to take her large-brimmed sunhat. She held her hat against the wind as a dazzling smile spread across her face. She turned, a man meeting her gaze with a basket and a matching smile._

_“Should we be worried about those clouds?” The woman gestured towards dark gray clouds on the horizon._

_“No, my darling. There isn’t to be any rain today.” He pulled a strawberry from the basket and held it to the woman’s lips. Biting down, she braced a hand under the juicy berry. She chuckled as the flavor exploded in her mouth and nearly stained her dress. The clouds advanced faster, just as the woman was about to express her worries again, a crack of lighting split the sky. A jet came into view from the storm, the billowing clouds turning into smoke coming from the jet’s tail. The woman ran further into the field, shock spreading across her face and a tear biting at her eye._

_“Don’t worry, love, I’ve landed worse.” A cockney voice came through laced with concern and crackled as if spoken into a radio. Another crack of lightning smacked the sky and everything was gone, the jet, the smoke, the clouds._

_“Lena!” The woman screamed._

Widow sat up in bed gasping for breath, a hand on her arm. A soft blue glow outlined the alarmed features of Tracer.

“Just grabbing a blanket, love. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Widow roughly grabbed Lena’s arm as if to check her grasp on reality. “You’re alright, you’re here. I’m here with you.” Lena went through her script that Angela had taught her. The words, as short as they were, managed to pull her into reality whenever she struggled. It was her best bet to help the gasping woman. Widow’s breath slowed as her head erupted in pain. She wrapped herself in Lena’s arms and a strange warmth ran a track down her cheek.

“I know.” Her world was being devoured by the sun that Tracer was, but she knew in this moment she would be okay

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. :)
> 
> I do not own any part of Blizzard or its many franchises or characters.


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